


You Shouldn't Eat Raw Cookie Dough

by macherrycherie



Series: You Need To Learn To Take A Break. That's Why I'm Here. [1]
Category: not a fandom
Genre: F/F, Lesbians, hehehee, i'm NOt sorry for my absolutely shitty writing, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 07:48:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14540052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macherrycherie/pseuds/macherrycherie
Summary: basic lesbian fluff with (possible?) implied smut at the end!yes, they're original characters, because i have no life.





	You Shouldn't Eat Raw Cookie Dough

**Author's Note:**

> i feel like i maybe didn't clarify this? Casey is white, Olivia is black! 'nuff said!

For some reason, it’s dark when Casey wakes up. Her only means of light is the weak glow of her neon glow-in-the-dark Aliens t-shirt, and _oh my god, did you actually go to sleep in that?_ is the first thing she thinks because that’s the only damn thing she can see. Then she notices she’s alone, which is a depressing thought for any occasion, but isn’t too bad in this situation because Casey knows there’s someone that’s supposed to be filling the space next to her. She sighs. This isn’t the first time this has happened.

With a huff, she fixes her shirt and un-bunches her sweatpants, somehow managing to get out of bed in the process. Once her clothing is relatively situated, she walks drowsily into the hallway, and sees the computer light on, just like the last time, and the time before that, and even the time before that. She checks the clock that sits on the wall across from her, the one that she almost broke when she’d first moved here. 4:15 AM.

_Oh, Christ_ , she thinks to herself and walks into the kitchen to see her girlfriend hunched over her computer on the counter, face illuminated in the harsh light. Casey says nothing, just watches her, almost ensnared in her looks. Olivia doesn’t see her.

“Liv.”

No reaction. She has her earbuds in.

Casey takes advantage of the small time she’s been given, examining Olivia’s intense expression. She takes a minute to think about how odd they must look together.

Olivia has always been sharp edges and serious voices, cutting through anyone and anything to get her point across. She will gladly rip apart anything that could be potentially dangerous to her or the people she loves ( _That’s me_ , Casey thinks a little proudly). She is formidable, intimidating, empowered.

Casey is too but in a different way.

Casey has never been sharp, serious, but nor has she been soft or sugary. Adorable is not a word that could even begin to explain Casey (as Olivia has said many times before). Casey is quick and urgent, she needs to speak and explain and get things across loud and undeniable. She has always been one to struggle with expressing her thoughts in a way that makes sense because she’s too fast. Olivia helps her - she calms her down, makes her relax, lets her go to work in pajamas because “You’ve been stressed lately,” even if that statement is immediately followed by “I don’t get why you like wearing them in public.” Olivia is always supportive like that – but exclusively to Casey.

Casey’s time is up - Olivia has noticed her. She gives Casey a confused look. “Why are you awake?”

Casey smiles, and even though she knows she probably shouldn’t, she laughs. Quietly at first, and then louder.

“Case?” Olivia looks worried, almost. “Are you okay?” She used Casey’s nickname, something Casey has never understood. Why shorten an already-short name?

Casey stops laughing when Olivia’s dark hand is on her shoulder, face almost invisible without a light source.

“Liv, I think the appropriate question is why are you awake?” The question earns an affectionate eye roll.

“I have work. Unlike a certain someone.”

Casey snickers. “Reverse those statements and you’ll have a better-flowing sentence.”

“It’s four AM and you’re being pedantic.”

“You’re using the word pedantic at four AM.”

“Touché,” Olivia huffs, eyebrow arched in that Are-You-High way she always does when Casey wakes up too early. Casey smiles warmly at Olivia, pale, dry hands moving to cup her face. The smile is quickly replaced with a scowl.

“It’s four AM and you haven’t eaten anything,” she remarks, continuing their game.

“It’s four AM and I’ve been working, I don’t have time to be eating.” Casey sighs, because Olivia has never seen the point in eating when you could be working, always working, she knows she needs nutrients but she always has more work, damn it.

Olivia frowns, covering Casey’s hands with her own, but Casey’s moving away, where is she - oh? Casey is moving to their refrigerator, not speaking as she pulls open the bottom drawer that’s too wide to be called a drawer but there’s no other name for it, and out comes the cookie dough that they bought two weeks ago that Olivia had refused to touch.

“Case, it’s too early to make cookies.” Casey just grins and shakes her head.

“Who said we were making cookies?”

“Common sense.”

Casey tsks, and Olivia arches her eyebrow once more. At that, Casey chuckles, kissing her girlfriend’s cheek as she grabs a spoon out of the sink ( _washed, thank god_ , Olivia thinks), spoons out a small chunk of frozen cookie dough, and **eats it**.

It takes all Olivia’s self-restraint not to yell. “That is so disgusting!”

Casey smiles self-satisfactorily. “It’s great! Try some.”

“No, you’re fucking - disgusting - that’s gross!” Olivia stumbles, and now it’s Casey’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“I agree with one part of that mumbo-jumbo, and it’s the ‘you’re fucking’ part. Who, exactly, am I-“ but she can’t finish her sentence because Olivia is laughing and smacking her arm, and she’s so close Casey can actually see the worry lines in her forehead and around her mouth. Olivia just shakes her head and opens her mouth, about to say something clever, but Casey, as stated previously, is fast, and scoops up another chunk of cookie dough and almost misses Olivia’s mouth, but no, she did indeed get the spoon and the dough into Olivia’s mouth. There’s a moment where a look of irritation and surprise pass on Casey’s girlfriend’s face, but then she smiles, and Casey knows that Olivia knows she was wrong - maybe she has enough time for eating after all.

“So, about the ‘you’re fucking’ thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> lmao thanks for ready my trashy fic!


End file.
